


Seriously?

by CharlieInUtopia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:55:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlieInUtopia/pseuds/CharlieInUtopia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is in a coffee shop and ends up with a tall, dark, handsome, leather jacket wearing stranger as a coffee companion. I mean, its not like he's complaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tolkien

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beespiesandplaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beespiesandplaid/gifts).



> This is a piece that I am writing for my higher English folio and because I'm unimaginative, I wrote fan fiction. I'm not the only one in my class doing it though.
> 
> Also, this is totally un beta'd so I apologise for any mistakes. Let me know if you see any.
> 
> Also, thanks to beespiesandplaid for helping me with a title and reminding me of my lowest moments on a daily basis to try and keep me from being a perfect being in at least one person's eyes. ;)

He sat down at his favourite table, the smell of freshly ground coffee wafted under his nose, the warm paper cup in his hand comforting. He rummaged through his rucksack, pulling out his laptop and got himself set up; text books and pens, and his phone from his pocket. Lowering his head he lost himself in the monotony of his class work.

Around him, the coffee shop slowly filled up as his caramel macchiato vanished in distracted sips.  
He was dragged from his own little word when he noticed a tall man looking at him pointedly from the other side of his table.

‘Can I help you?’ the boy asked, pulling his headphone from his ear and trying to be as polite as he could, because seriously this guy was terrifying.

‘Do you mind if I sit here?’ The guy asked, in a tone that made the boy realise that he must have already asked at least once.

‘Uh, yeah. Sure. My name’s Stiles, by the way.’

‘Derek.’ The man replied, pulling out the seat opposite Stiles.

They sat in silence for a while, Stiles returning to his laptop and Derek nursing his coffee with a dark, brooding look on his face. Stiles kept sneaking glances at the man. Tall, dark, handsome, broody and with just the right amount of beardy facial hair, Stiles couldn’t stop looking at him. Eventually, Derek pulled a book out of a pocket in his leather jacket - like seriously, it was at least 100 degrees out there and he was wearing a leather jacket? Well, at least it matched the black jeans, black boots and black v neck shirt. Stiles could see a theme appearing.

Then, Stiles caught the title of the book.

‘The Fellowship Of The Ring? Seriously?’ he asked incredulously.

Derek just looked at him.

‘That’s seriously not what I was expecting. I thought maybe John Grisham or Clive Custer but Tolkien? Wow.’ Stiles sat back in his chair a smirk on his face.

‘Your cup says your name is Batman.’ Derek retorted.

‘Hey. Shut up. He’s quite clearly the best superhero of all time.’ Stiles was inwardly begging him to challenge that.

‘Well, it depends on your views on whether DC or Marvel is better.’ Derek said, raising an impressive right eyebrow to an impressive height.

‘Oh my god. You’re a closet nerd!’ Stiles grabbed Derek’s arm, the excitement getting a bit much for him.

Derek’s left eyebrow joined his right, almost getting lost in his hairline. He looked at Stiles’, down at Stiles’ hand, and back at his face.

‘I’m letting go now.’ Stiles’ let go, ears going pink.

‘Not a closet nerd. My sister was.’ Derek replies, his eyes looking like they’re in another place.

‘Ah.’ Stiles doesn’t really know what to say to that.

‘Sorry, I, uh… Do you want some more coffee?’ Derek asked, trying to get the conversation back on track. 

‘Um, no, thanks I really need to get going, I’ve sat here way too long all ready.’ Now Stiles feels guilty, like he’s kicked a sad puppy. God, how can someone who looks like that do such good puppy dog eyes?

‘Okay. See you around.’ Derek replies, his voice low and head down, leaning almost into his book as Stiles packed up his stuff.

‘Yeah. Bye.’ Stiles leaves, his back pack slung over one shoulder. As he walks through the door, he looks back and sees Derek looking at him with unreadable eyes. Stiles hopes he’ll see him again.


	2. Oops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!
> 
> Enjoy.

Two days later and Stiles is back at the coffee shop, at the counter ordering is usual triple shot caramel macchiato with extra syrup, but when he turns around to sit down, he sees a guy in a leather jacket at his table, head down over a book with a cappuccino in front of him.

‘Derek?’ Stiles asks, coffee in hand, heading over to sit opposite the man.

‘Stiles!’ Derek exclaims, then follows that with a long string of imaginative curses as he spills half a cup of boiling hot coffee all over his own lap.

‘Oh God! I’m so sorry!’ Stiles hurriedly sets down his cup and back pack and grabs some napkins from the counter and almost throwing them at Derek. He rushes towards him, and Stiles being Stiles doesn’t notice the pool of coffee slowly starting to form on the floor by Derek’s chair, and slips. 

It’s safe to say it wasn’t graceful.

Arms flailing and legs going out from under him like a cartoon, Stiles ended up on his back side with Derek just looking down on him, glaring.

‘I can’t even begin to apologise.’ Stiles said from the floor, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

 

Stiles looked at Derek, surprised by the smirk starting to pull at his lips. 

‘Not funny.’ Stiles mumbled, gripping the table and hauling himself up. He sat down in his seat and grabbed a sip of his coffee. He checked his ruck sack, making sure his laptop was still okay after having him land on it and hauled it out of his bag, avoiding looking at Derek the whole time. Like, seriously? He greets a guy he’s only met once before and the guy is so surprised he spills half of his coffee all over himself. What is he meant to say to him after that? After he has all of his resources loaded up, and his essay on his screen he risks a look at Derek. He’s sat, reading his book, this time The Great Gatsby. Derek’s eyes flick up towards Stiles, holding his gaze before dropping back to his book. Derek pulled out a notebook and jotted down a few lines in sharp accented letters.

Stiles just turned back to his laptop and started typing. The closer he gets to the end of his essay, the more he chances looking at Derek, just short glances, lingering when he thought Derek was too focused on his book to notice him looking. 

Two hours, three cups of coffee and not a single word later, they were still there. Stiles started packing up his stuff, closing down his laptop and putting his books back into his rucksack. Derek's eyes flicked up at him as he got up, and headed out the door without looking back.


	3. Store Cupboards and Mountain Ash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles drinks too much, has a hangover and they end up in a store cupboard.
> 
> But not like Stiles might want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly longer chapter this time, enjoy!

Derek sat down in what had become his seat, ordered his coffee - one extra large cappuccino with no hint of a please or thank you in sight - took out his notebook and novel, and started reading. He glanced up briefly when he heard the chair opposite him dragging across the floor loudly. 

“Hi.” Stiles mumbled as he walked in, thin plaid shirt hanging off his thin shoulders, draped lazily over a grey graphic tee. He stumbled to the counter and ordered a coffee, asking only for “Something made entirely of caffeine and sugar”, he thrust some change at the barista and fell into his seat at Derek’s table.

“Afternoon.” Derek said, eyebrows raised.

“Don’t speak so loud.” Stiles whispered. “Please?”

“Why?” Derek asked, voice significantly quieter than his usual manly tone. 

“Just… Sssshhh.” Stiles mumbled, running his fingers through his already ruffled hair and scrubbing at the dark circles under his eyes.   
Honestly Stiles looked like he’d just woken up, threw on what ever clothes were lying around and wandered here. He lacked his rucksack, instead he nursed his coffee, hunched over it like it was his anchor, his phone sat on the table in front of him.

Derek looked him over, slowly sweeping his eyes over his sleep deprived form. 

‘You feeling alright?’ Derek asked, almost whispering.

‘Mmmm. I had my last final yesterday and my true love Lydia had a party which I was miraculously invited to even though she’s never spoken to me ever. And I went. You can probably guess the rest.’ Stiles mumbled, not even raising his head.

‘True Love?! Um… Sorry. You drank everything you could get you hands on and got kicked out?’ 

‘Pretty much.’

‘You didn’t even have that much to drink, Stiles.’ The barista shouted over the coffee grinder and coffee machines.

‘Shut up Isaac.’ Stiles murmured, pushing aside his coffee cup and slowing lowering his head until it rested on the table.

He stayed there for much longer than Derek had thought he would, his heavy breathing obvious, even in the crowded coffee shop. Isaac sauntered over, taking Derek’s cup and automatically refilling it.

Then Stiles started snoring.

‘Stiles.’ Derek prompted, giving his shoulder a small shove. ‘STILES.’

‘Insert flailing here.’ Stiles muttered before promptly starting snoring again.

Derek just stares. He can hear Stiles’ sharp inhale as he starts dreaming, still with his head face down on the table.

‘It’s Isaac right? What the hell do I do?’ Derek asked, starting to panic slightly as Stiles legs tangled with his as he slowly sank in his chair.

‘I’ve got it, don’t worry.’ Isaac proclaimed, a smirk appearing on his face.

He crept up to Stiles (though he needn’t have bothered, Stiles was so out of it), leaned into his ear and whispered, ‘Stiles get up, you’re late for school.’  
Stiles almost leapt out of his chair, arms flailing before almost shouting ‘I’m up!’

He stopped and looked around at the rest of the patrons in the coffee shop all staring at him.

‘You ass.’ He said, glaring at Isaac before glancing at Derek, face flaring red and ears burning.

Stiles took a sip and smiled, glare turning back to a more pleasant look and Derek could have sworn he saw tendrils of electric blue fading from the edges of his irises.

‘Stiles, what’re you doing?’

‘Drinking my coffee, what’re you doing?’ Stiles said defensively, eyes shifting to Isaac.

A tense moment followed, but Stiles dragged Isaac to the back storeroom before he did anything stupid.

 

***

 

‘What the hell are you doing?!’ Stiles shouted, thanking god that the room was soundproofed for simply that reason. ‘Your eyes!’

‘Stiles, he’s one of us.’

‘W-what?’ Stiles stuttered, eyes widening, surprised.

‘He’s definitely one of us. Did you not see him when you did that to your coffee? Stiles, he noticed. He knows something.’ Isaac stopped and looked at him, eyebrows lowered in thought.

‘Okay. What do we do with him? What do you think he is? Holy shit Isaac, I wish Scott were working today.’ Stiles mumbled.

‘Why don’t we just ask him?’ Isaac deadpanned, ‘It would be easy enough.’

‘What the fu-‘ Stiles started, only to be interrupted by Derek popping his head through the door, eyes blazing bright red.

‘No need. You left the door ajar. The rest of the shop couldn’t hear you but I could.’

That’s when Stiles came out of his surprised stupor, eyes flashing blue as a wall of glowing power flew up between Derek and Isaac, who was stood directly in front of Stiles, blocking Derek from making any advances toward them. Stiles took a step forward, a hand sliding into his back pocket, before throwing it into the air with a flourish, a perfect circle of mountain ash forming around the Alpha, effectively trapping him. 

‘An alpha?! You’re a freaking Alpha?!’ Stiles almost yelled, dropping his arm and letting the barrier fall.

‘You’re a druid.’ Derek retorted a look on his face saying nothing more than that he felt that was a perfectly good response.

‘Why does everyone just assume I’m a druid? I’m clearly a witch. Like, seriously?’

‘Well, witches are generally women.’ Derek snapped, a perfect eyebrow raising.

‘God, you people and your ridiculous gender stereotypes.’ An eye roll of epic proportion accompanied Stiles’ accusatory tone.

‘Is there an alpha already in the area or are you an omega? Are there more like us here in town? Who’s Scott?’ Derek’s fountain of questions were directly aimed at Isaac.

‘I have an alpha, his name’s Scott Mcall, he’s not much one for conflict though. What are you doing here?’ Isaac replied, eyes shifting between the Alpha in front of him and Stiles, keeping an eye on Stiles’ hands, noticing the blue sparks flashing every time his finger came in contact with each other.

‘I’m here to find my sister. I was not aware that there was already an Alpha in the area, I would have asked his permission to be in the area.’

‘What’s going on in here, why isn’t there anyone in th-‘ A boy stepped through the door, eyes flashing red as he took in Derek, trapped inside a circle of mountain ash, the scent of magic in the air.

‘That would be Scott, the Alpha.’ Stiles muttered, an eye roll accompanying the very put upon tone of voice.

Derek just looked shocked, taking in the boy in front of him, and that was just it, he was just a boy, hair styled into a teenaged quiff, chocolate brown eyes trained on the scene in front of him.

‘That’s your Alpha?’


End file.
